Bridges
by Cocoa987
Summary: In which it is a cold rainy night in London, Mary is depressed, Bert is sarcastic, and an umbrella is thrown into the Thames. A Mary-meets-Bert dark oneshot. ANGST. Because the fandom doesn't have enough. T for reference to suicide.


**So...I've had this on my computer for a while, been too busy/lazy to put it up. But it's my birthday, and since I don't want to do homework, and I don't have the new Supercali chap finished yet... a present.**

**A darker fic of sorts- be warned, it may be on the verge of AU. I have reasons, though!**

**This is yet another of the Mary meets Bert fics- I thought I'd add my bit. They're- different, though. Mary is a bit of a rebel teenager, that doesn't really fit in with her family (I've got my ideas on them- it'll come up in a chapter of Supercali soon) and Bert is a bit rougher around the edges- in time he'd come to be the sweep we all know and love!**

**Disclaimer: Don't own, don't own the song this was based off of- well, if you count iTunes…**

She ran, and she ran, and she ran, and she ran some more. Her footsteps tripped over each other, her coat catching and making her stumble. Her shoes splashed in a puddle, and her hair was soaked. She was soaked. But she didn't care. All she had to do was get out of there.

She settled on the bridge, and there she waited.

It was a cold night in London. Cold, wet, and foggy. The clock tower was just barely visible in the gloom. Barely anyone was out, the rain driving everyone to warm, dry shelters with their loved ones.

There were people trapped in the downpour, though. The chimney sweeps shivered and whooped and danced around in the rain like it was a perfect sunny day. They walked and talked and lived their lives, just like normal.

Only a few blocks away, a small figure perched on a bridge, out on the support beam, a few solid inches the only thing keeping her from plunging down into the Thames. Her dark black hair was soaked through, as was her coat.

Mary Poppins stared into the night, counting every breath, every heartbeat, every raindrop, every thought racing through her tired brain. She listened hard into the night, listening for something, anything to let her know that she wasn't the only person in the world right now.

There was nothing, nothing but the rain. No footsteps on the ground. No one was there. No one was looking for her.

She thought someone would be here by now, or at least close. The light at the end of the bridge flickered once, went out for a few moments, and then lit back up.

The flickering light caught her attention, if only briefly, and she caught a glimpse of three or four figures crowded around the pole. They were chimney sweeps, no doubt- tired of the cold darkness and just warming up for a moment or two.

She squinted through the sheets of rain, wondering if one of them was someone she knew. She knew the sweeps, if only vaguely. They all seemed to know who she was- word got around when you had talents like hers.

She looked away, her gaze back on the horizon, and her hat flew off her head, picked up by the wind and flung out onto the breeze. Her head snapped up, she reached, missed, slipped, and grabbed back onto her perch, the cold seeping in through her thin gloves.

One of the sweeps had noticed her, and now they were all standing together, discussing something quietly. The gathered in a circle, only for a moment, and then they broke apart, and one of the men walked toward her.

Mary promptly ignored the person walking up on her, even when he was just behind her. The only thing separating them was the length of metal she was on and the barriers stopping anyone from getting out on it. He peeked through the little wall and smiled cheerfully at her.

"Damn cold night, huh." Mary wasn't sure whether to dignify this with a response. "Come on, Mary."

"Go away," Mary said into her knees. She heard a low chuckle behind her, and then the sound of someone slipping between the railings and joining her on her little perch.

"I don't think I'm goin' to, Miss Mary Poppins. It'd b' mighty unkind of me t' leave a lady ou' in th' cold." The voice said cheerfully.

"It's not unkind if that's what the lady wishes," Mary replied automatically, no real malice in her comeback. She tilted her head up, rain spattering on her closed eyelids. She could hear him, probably only three feet away, his breaths audible even through the deafening drum of rain.

"Oh ho ho, now," the man chuckled, seemingly amused at her comeback. "I'm wounded, Miss Poppins. Wounded, deep down." Mary couldn't take his infuriating presence anymore and spun around, looking at her companion for the first time.

"What do you _want_?" she asked irritably, discreetly examining the man in front of her. Brown hair, brown eyes, hat, brush, scarf- nothing out of the ordinary. Something about his eyes, though- they almost seemed to sparkle, even in the dim light. He was still grinning at her, that stupid infuriating grin. She wanted to wipe it right off his face, no matter how unladylike that thought was.

This thought distracted her momentarily, and she spun back around, crossing her arms and staring resolutely into the river.

"I-" for once the man had nothing to say. "I wan' ya t' get ou' of th' cold b'fore ya catch yer' death." he came up with finally.

"Well that's very chivalrous of you, but I don't wish to move. I prefer it here." She didn't prefer it here, actually. It was freezing and she was soaking wet and she knew that soon any warmth her talents provided would run out soon and she wouldn't be able to stop shivering. She could already feel the cold ebbing into her bones, and drew herself in tighter.

She could hear him rustling around behind her, and entertained the idea of shoving him off the bar for a brief second before discarding it. She was annoyed, but his disappearance would leave her alone with her thoughts, which probably wasn't a good thing right now.

She undid her umbrella, remembering it only just now. It didn't do any use- the rain was falling almost sideways, and the wind threatened to take it away. She folded it back closed with a snap, ignoring the nearly-inaudible grumbles of the parrot.

Just then something was draped over her shoulders, and she stiffened. "Just relax, Miss Poppins. It's m' coat. You were shakin'- though' you migh' need t' more than I do." Mary accepted the coat grudgingly- she _was _cold- freezing. The coat was still a little warm, and she couldn't help the way she melted into it.

"Thank you," she said, just loud enough for him to hear. She shifted on the metal bar uncomfortably- it wasn't comfortable, and it was slippery. She nearly slipped to the side, and felt rough hands steady her.

"Sorry," he said even before he had let go. "Y' looked like you were gonna fall."

"What if that was my plan?" The thought was out of her mouth before she could stop herself.

"Excuse me?" his voice sounded disbelieving, and she couldn't really blame him. This was edging into unfamiliar territory for her, but a darker part of her mind had taken over tonight, and she couldn't fight the feeling.

"What if I wanted to go for a swim?"

"Y' wouldn't. No' now."

"Why wouldn't I?"

"B-_Because!_" His voice sounded more panicked, and Mary vaguely wondered what she looked like right now. Someone desperate enough to try this? Apparently so.

"Besides, you've got that li'l umbrella. It'd stop ya." He sounded like he'd hit on a good point of reason, and he was pretty spot-on.

"What if I did this?" And then the umbrella was in her hand, pulled back, and then launched off the bridge, out into the river. They both stared after the falling object for a second or two before her companion managed to find his voice.

"You coul' always do that li'l snapping thin'-" he snapped, and the umbrella wavered for a moment in its fall, as if hoping that its owner wouldn't really dispose of it like this. After a moment or two, it dropped again, plummeting into the water and out of sight.

"And if I didn't?" Mary knew she was pushing her luck, knew that this was almost crossing the line between hypothetical and actuality. She didn't care- the dark part of her mind was pushing her further than it ever had before, and she couldn't stop it, didn't want to stop it.

"You wouldn't."

"And why not?" she asked, biting her lip hard and closing her eyes. A hand tentatively rested on her shoulder, and it took all her willpower not to throw it off.

"Because the Mary Poppins we all know and love wouldn't throw i'tall away like tha'. I don' know wha's gotten int' her tonigh', but she wouldn't do i'." his voice was soft, quiet, so matter-of-fact that Mary knew she was right. Her head dropped downward, and a second hand was placed on her other shoulder.

"Now- are we through wit' our wantin's to go nigh'time swimmin?" he asked cheerfully. Mary nodded slowly, and he patted her shoulder before taking his hands away. For a fleeting second she wanted them back on her shoulders, but she ignored that thought.

"D'ya wan' t' talk 'bout it?" She shook her head. "It's up t' you. Wha' do ya wanna do?" Mary sighed, blinking away the raindrops and trying to clear her head.

"I just… I just want to go home," she finally said, her voice strangely high. The man chuckled darkly.

"If ya' as' me, homes seem t' be half the trouble 'round 'ere," he said, still chuckling. Mary stiffened, and turned back, already halfway turned around. He had struck right on the heart of the matter without even knowing it. Hot rain pricked at the corners of her eyes, and she struggled to pretend that it was simply that, instead of the tears that had been threatening to fall all day.

"Mary? Mar- oh. Oh. Mary- I'm sorry." He had noticed her sudden silence, somehow different than before, and her refusal to face him now, and added the pieces together. Hands were placed back on her shoulders, and to her disdain Mary leaned right into his grasp. The tears that had been lurking at the corners of her eyes all evening finally fell in a hot rush down her cheeks.

"They-they said I wasn't good enough," she sobbed, burying her face in his shoulder. The man hesitated before wrapping an arm around her and hugging her close. "They said I wasn't perfect. I'm only practically," she said, bitterness tainting every word. "Practically perfect. They said I'll never be perfect. I'm clumsy and I don't like to just sit and work and I don't mind children, I really don't, and they said that all I'll amount to is someone like Uncle Albert, who means well but can be a little- strange sometimes, and-and-" she ran out of words for the moment and contented herself with bawling her eyes out.

"They're idiots, Mary. They can' tell you wha' t' do with your life." he said comfortingly, although sounding as if he was at a loss as what to do next. Mary looked up at him, still unable to recognize the face and not quite sure why she was spilling her whole awful story to someone she had scarcely known for ten minutes.

"They said I was crazy. They said I was losing my mind- that I wouldn't fit in anymore. Do you think I'm crazy?" She asked him. For some reason his opinon mattered more than anyone else's right now.

"Never. You're no crazier than me. Well-" he paused, as if to reconsider before his face broke into a grin. "Mayb' I'm no' one t' judge." Mary smiled despite herself, and turned briskly to wipe her tears away. Her new friend let her go, and she tilted her head up, letting the rain wash her sadness away and cool her hurt.

"Now- do y' still want t' go home? Your uncle's a good man, Mary. Don' mind wh' anyone says about 'im." he said softly. Mary nodded and snapped once, her fingers clumsy with cold. Her parrot umbrella shot out of the water and arced through the air, landing neatly in her gloved palm. She winced at the cold, and the man took it from her fingers.

"I'll hold tha'- you're plenty cold already." Mary thought about protesting, but she was too miserable to really care.

He went off the ledge first, and then helped Mary off. They walked in silence for a moment or two until they reached the end of the bridge. The sweeps hadn't left their posts under the lamp, and as her eyes adjusted to the light, Mary successfully recognized the other two sweeps- a boy called Tom around her age, and an older one called Fred- both friends. They smiled sheepishly at her, and Fred pressed a mug of something warm into her hands. She took a sip- hot chocolate- and glared half-heartedly at them.

"You didn't want to come say hello?" she asked, her voice surprisingly steady after a few sips of cocoa. Tom grinned at her.

"We thought we'd keep your cocoa warm," he told her. "Besides, he was the one that volunteered." Mary turned to her companion, who grinned sheepishly and shrugged.

"We drew lots- no one wants to bother Miss Mary Poppins when she's in a temper," he informed her. Mary's mouth twitched, and Fred chuckled, getting a good look at the expression on her face.

"All right, boys. Go one, get yerself's ou' of the rain, you 'ere?" Tom saluted sarcastically, and Fred grinned and shoved him into a puddle. Tom grabbed Fred's sleeve and yanked him down next to him. Mary's friend grinned and kicked a spray of water at the now-tussling boys. "Go on, get. M' door's unlocked, go on in and get a fire goin'." Still laughing, the boys wandered off out of the light. The sweep turned at smiled at Mary, his teeth glinting in the dim light.

"I'll be gettin' you 'ome, I guess. Righ' this way, now." The way home wasn't long, and they filled it with idle chatter.

They stopped just outside Mary's door. "This'll be where I leave," he told her. He studied her for a moment. "You gonna be ok?" Mary smiled hesitantly.

"I think so. Thank you, Mr.-" she stopped suddenly- she had never learned his name.

"-Alfred. Herbert Alfred. Call me Bert- I'm only Herbert on Sundays." She smiled, more genuinely this time, and he grinned back.

"Bert, than. Thank you."

"Not a problem. Would you- no, never mind." He blushed suddenly, and took a step back. Mary tilted her head at him.

"What?"

"Would y' care t' meet me a' the park tomorrow? Er- later today?" he amended, glancing at his watch. Mary beamed.

"It would be a pleasure. Good night, Bert."

"Good night, Mary," he said, and then he was gone. Mary turned, squared her shoulders, and knocked on the door.

It was only a moment before Uncle Albert appeared in the doorway. He blinked blearily at her, and then pulled her close. "Mary. I was so worried- I thought you had- I was just about to call the police- oh, Mary." He hugged her tight, and then pushed her away and examined her. "You're soaked to the bone. I'll make some tea." He bustled off, leaving Mary in the doorway.

She turned, looking out at the cold London night. If she squinted, she could just make out a figure at the end of the street. She waved, and Bert waved back before whistling cheerfully and heading off into the night.

Mary closed the door, smiled to herself, and went to tea, already contemplating her next meeting with Bert.

**Fin.**

**Cocoa =D**


End file.
